


Just a bunch of fics I started writing but never finished

by cannibalstwink



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Falsettos - Lapine/Finn, IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Eddie dies, F/F, It’s unintentional I promise, M/M, Marijuana, Misgendering, Most of these are like.. memories bye, Trans Characters By Trans Author, Trans Richie Tozier, tags will be updated as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:53:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27172720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cannibalstwink/pseuds/cannibalstwink
Summary: Hi I’m Mars and I have muse for 2 minutes before it fades away so have fun! Some of these are really old
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Miguel/Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Memories (IT)

Richie Tozier was standing in his hotel room, wet and covered in blood, shit, and dirt. For someone that smelled as awful as he did, he had no motivation to shower. He had no motivation to even move from the spot that he was standing in. All he wanted was to cry. To cry and cry and never stop crying. But, he would have time to do that both during and after his shower. He realized that the housekeepers wouldn’t appreciate the extra work.

He started to slowly shuffle into the bathroom, his legs starting to feel like concrete. He stared at himself in the mirror for a little while, not even fighting back the tears as they started to roll down his cheeks. He slowly started to pull his clothes off and step into the shower. His eyes started to blur because of how hard he was crying. He started to sit down in the bathtub, the steadily heating water starting to run over him as he just sobbed. Fuck, this was sad.

_“Hey wait for me you asshole!”_ A voice called out through Richie’s street. Richie glanced behind himself at Eddie, feeling his heartbeat speed up, obviously from how fast he was riding his bike. “No! Learn how to ride a fucking bike!” Richie yelled back, almost entirely messing around. Everyone (except for Eddie’s mother) knew how good of a bike rider Eddie was, but Richie figured he’d have to knock him down a few pegs.

“Oh screw you, Rachel!” Eddie sped up so he could pass him, a determined look on his face. Richie’s heart sunk a little at his own name. He tried to speed up anyway, to pass Eddie and beat him but instead, he ran over a tree branch, his bike almost flipping as he fell off of it and landed face first “SHIT!”  
“Fuck! Rach?” Eddie’s bike slowed to a stop as he turned to the other boy, a concerned expression on his face. He quickly climbed off of his bike and made his way over to him, kneeling beside him. Richie could feel the sting of his scraped skin, but he could also feel the sting of shame as Eddie used a name that didn’t feel like his. He didn’t know why, but he never truly felt happy when he was “being himself.”


	2. Reflection (DEH)

The house was quiet and Connor was peaceful for a brief, almost magical moment in time. He was laying in bed with the very boy he had yearned to be with all those years ago. He was asleep, arms wrapped tightly around him. If only he knew that he would be happy once again senior year. That he would be cuddling him, the boy who he thought hated him. He couldn't help but drift off to sleep after just running his fingers through the boy’s brown, almost black hair.   
  


_Connor woke up to his alarm, almost throwing his phone across the room as he did so._ Why the fuck was it this early? Connor forced himself up, stumbling over to his closet and grabbing whatever he had thrown in there, quickly changing before a thought hit him. Of course, they were always there- nagging thoughts about how scrawny he was or how tall he was or the way that his face looked; thoughts that almost always were there. They never went away, only seemingly became less until one day it returned to the normal chaotic mess of self hating thoughts that he was numb to by now. However, today was one of Connor’s bad days. It had been creeping up on him for a while now, the faint traces of a depressive episode slowly slipping into his life again as his last year in high school began- the year that was supposed to be fun. Instead of the first day excitement some people felt or the first day anxiety others felt, depression managed to weigh Connor down like a bag of rocks. The last week of August seemed to go by at lightning speed, taking whatever tiny shard of happiness he had managed to grab on to and throwing it out. 

He just sighed, grabbed his pot, and sat in his room for fifteen minutes. He managed to slowly force the nausea back before taking a bong rip, taking in as much as he could until his lungs burned and his eyes watered.


End file.
